


Cuddle Monster

by Runchrandom (infraredphaeton)



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adorable Kim Namjoon | RM, Gen, Hyung Kink, Kim Namjoon appreciation hour, Kim Namjoon | RM-centric, M/M, Praise Kink, Pre-Slash, everybody is low key thirsty for Namjoon, implied bdsm dynamics, it's not even low key for some of them though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 18:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infraredphaeton/pseuds/Runchrandom
Summary: His name is R A P Monster not C U D D L E Monster.Or actually it's neither, but Namjoon really needs a hug sometimes.





	Cuddle Monster

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate title for this fic would be: Six Times Kim Namjoon Got Snuggles From His Many Admirers. Or maybe, Six Times BTS Was Super Gay For Their Leader

-YG-

Yoongi was pretty sure he should have gone to bed a while ago. It was almost four in the morning, and they had rehearsal at seven, but his brain just would not stop. He'd been composing, but when his computer tower started making more noise than his speakers, he'd decided to give it a rest, and ended up out here in the living room instead. So he was watching a movie with the volume on low, tucked up against the arm of the couch, trying to slow his thoughts down with soft music and subtitled explosions.

Which was fine. If he was lucky, he would drift off watching a cop fire his gun into the air while screaming 'ahhh', and Namjoon would stop Seokjin from waking him  so he would be human during their meetings. Still, he really wished that he could settle down and sleep properly. Preferably, that he had settled down about four hours ago, but he was willing to compromise and go to sleep now, if his brain would be so kind. He felt like a dog chasing his own tail. No respite, no pause, no sleep. He stared blearily at the screen as a swan appeared, apparently key to the action, and shook his head.

"You're up?" A sleep slurred voice asked from the doorway, and Yoongi half-startled, looking away from the movie. In the doorway, a blanket covered lump stared out of the darkness. Namjoon was wrapped in his duvet, hair ruffled and face puffy, and he shuffled into the room, clearly still mostly asleep. He was cute like this, completely unguarded, and he yawned, rubbing at his face. The duvet fell around his shoulders like a pink cape, revealing his pyjamas, and the gap at his throat, Yoongi's eyes catching on the knob of his collarbones.

"I'm up," Yoongi confirmed, as Namjoon sat next to him, immediately tilting over to land with his head against Yoongi's side. "Why are you up, Joon-ah?"

"Bad dreams," Namjoon said, matter of fact, "can I stay?"

It wasn't an unusual reason for either of them, both anxious people who sometimes couldn't escape even in dreams. More than once, Namjoon had shuffled sleepily into Yoongi's room to listen to him mix, falling asleep on his bed while Yoongi worked. More than once, Yoongi had lain on Namjoon's floor, limbs spread like a starfish as Namjoon took English phone interviews scheduled for interviewers in countries where it was not three in the morning. They didn't need to give excuses about it anymore.

Yoongi nodded, and lifted up his arm to rest on top of Namjoon's duvet covered shoulder, petting his hair absently. It was rough, like he hadn't washed the hairspray out of it properly, but it wasn't sticky or wet, so Yoongi kept going, and Namjoon practically melted against him, eyes lidded and a small, unguarded smile forming. The movie played, and the lead was watching a DVD with his friend slumped next to him, sleepy and unguarded. Yoongi looked down at Namjoon, slumped next to him, sleepy and unguarded, and half coughed to cover a laugh. Art mirrored life, right? He rubbed a hand over Namjoon's hair, and the leftover hair spray held it in weird positions. It was kind of soothing, actually, playing with Namjoon's hair while the movie played in the background- he made cat ears, a big spike, twisted a cowlick like Clark Kent's, flattened it down like a bowl cut, and Namjoon just dozed against his shoulder, breath warm and regular. 

"I'm not wearing my glasses and now I can't read the subtitles," Namjoon grumbled after a good twenty minutes, poking his chin into Yoongi's arm, "put it in Korean."

Yoongi shook his head, "It's English- you don't need the subtitles- and I like the way they talk."

He grumbled a little more, sounds refusing to resolve into actual complaints, but settled quickly enough, wrapping the blanket around both of them and snuggling down against Yoongi. His eyelashes were delicate fans against his cheeks, and Yoongi brushed his thumb against them softly.

Namjoon ran warm, he always had, and combined with the duvet, Yoongi soon found himself starting to get a little sleep-hazy as well, speeding brain running itself into slower and slower circles.

"Thanks for the company," Yoongi murmured, sliding down on the couch so he was lying down, and Namjoon made a sleepy noise, tangling them together more thoroughly.

"Go t'sleep, hyung," Namjoon mumbled back, and Yoongi decided to listen to his leader and do as he was told.

 

-HS-

 

"That was amazing, Hoseok," Namjoon says sincerely from his position sitting against the wall. He had slunk into the practice room almost an hour earlier, notebook in hand and desperate for a distraction, and Hoseok had felt too sorry for him to tell him to get out. He wasn't practicing properly- just dancing for fun, moving from choreo piece to choreo piece to improv to b-ball moves he didn't have the chance to use anymore, and Namjoon sitting in the corner mumbling rhyming syllables under his breath wasn't too distracting.

Hoseok liked the company, and Namjoon always had a kind of wondrous amazement at dance that stemmed from knowing damn well how hard it was to accomplish. It was nice to hear the compliments, even nicer to see the stars in Namjoon's eyes, the fond, impressed smile on his face.

"Thanks!" he beamed back, grabbing his towel and water bottle and flopping down next to Namjoon. "How's the song writing?"

"Barren," Namjoon replied, immediately gloomy, "my inspiration has dried up, and I'll never write again. I have nothing left to offer. "

"Other than your aegyo skills," Hoseok said, reaching out and pinching the leader's cheek. "We always have your aegyo skills."

"Thank god for that." Namjoon said, half-laughing, and dropped his notebook next to him, pitching over to lean on Hoseok heavily. "Otherwise I'd be out of the group."

"We'd kick you to the curb," Hoseok agreed cheerfully. "And I'd take my true place as the leader of Bangtan."

"I'd understand," Namjoon said, burying his face in Hoseok's sweaty chest. "It's only fair."

"I would be a fair and just ruler. But you've still got those charm points, so I guess I'll bide my time a little longer." Hoseok said, poking Namjoon's cheek where his dimples formed. "Damn your adorable face."

"Tee hee," Namjoon said, putting on his performance voice, and Hoseok burst out laughing. "Hyung, are you laughing at me?" Namjoon said, keeping the deep voice on and shaking his head in an exaggeratedly cute way. "Hyung's so mean! Uwaa!"

He couldn't stop laughing- Namjoon's dumb aegyo pout, combined with the deep rap voice, added to the exercise endorphins- Hoseok slid down until he was literally on the ground, hiccuping, and Namjoon started laughing too.

"Uwaa?" Hoseok asked, and Namjoon shrugged, going a little pink. He did a peace sign, pouting again, and Hoseok's hiccups got even worse.

"It sounded good, right?" he asked still acting cute, and slid down the wall so that he was lying next to Hoseok, looking at him with an evaluating eye.

Ah, Hoseok realised. Namjoon was a great guy, but he wasn't good at asking for what he wanted, and judging from the antsy way he was playing with the edge of his hoodie, what he wanted was some skinship. What a nerd. Anyone else would have just gone in for a hug, but Namjoon? Outside the dorms? Never. Much better to stew in his own nerves in the corner until he ended up snappy, and then apologetic, and then crying, and then ended up at the bottom of a seven person cuddle pile in the middle of the living room.

"It was damn cute!" Hoseok agreed, and patted his stomach with both hands, and obvious invitation. Almost before they'd lifted away, Namjoon had spun around so he could rest his head on Hoseok's stomach, and had let out a sigh, relaxing into the floor. Hoseok reached down an arm to lay across Namjoon's chest, catching one hand and knitting their fingers together. "Secret aegyo king, Kim Namjoon."

"Please never say that again," Namjoon said, turning his face into Hoseok's stomach, and Hoseok wanted to laugh at him again, so he did, a deep, rolling laugh that bounced Namjoon's head against him.

"Shadow aegyo king, Kim Namjoon! Unexpected dark horse of cuteness, Kim Namjoon!"

Namjoon punched him in the thigh, hard, and Hoseok bent Namjoon's thumb back, and Namjoon kicked him, and five minutes later they were back in exactly the same position, nursing a few bruises and breathing heavily.

"You know, you can just ask me for a hug, Namjoon," Hoseok said, carding his fingers through Namjoon's hair. It was his go to comfort move, the way he remembered his mother comforting him, and from the way Namjoon settled against him, breathing slower, it worked on him too. "Maybe use the cute voice. Ooh. The cute voice, and do a nice pose, and call me hyung! You'll get all the hugs you want!"

"The day I do that is the day they lock me up in a psychiatric hospital," Namjoon replied, playing with Hoseok's fingers absently. He had gone a little pink again, shading the tops of his ears and along his cheeks.

"Oh, come on. Do it for me. Do it for hyung." Hoseok whined, and Namjoon let out a huff of laughter. "Do it or I'll stop playing with your hair."

"...Seriously?"

"Do ittttt." Hoseok whinged, and Namjoon sat up a little, turning to look at him properly. His hair was a mess, fluffed up by the petting, and he was a little pink in the face.

"...hyung, can I have a hug?" He asked, voice sweet and pitched up a little bit, eyes widened.

"Of course!" Hoseok chirped, lunging up and catching Namjoon in his arms, snuggling into the top of his head. "Anything for my adorable dongsaeng!"

"Hobi, that's weird," Namjoon said, muffled by Hoseok's chest, "you're making this weird."

"It's only weird if you make it weird," Hoseok said wisely, stroking Namjoon's eyebrow, "now call me hyung again."

 

-SJ-

 

Seokjin was well aware of the fact that Namjoon had experienced the day from hell today. Sure, a new album meant new songs, new recordings, new concepts, and exciting meetings, but the high of new songs had to be balanced against the roughness of production approval meetings, the new concept meant the long dance practice that had both Seokjin and Namjoon kept behind for an extra hour and a half, new performances meant new styling meetings listening to the coordi-noonas pick at Namjoon's body, picking and discarding concepts for reasons like 'his limbs are too long for this look' or 'too strong a face for that eyeliner', and to top it all off, he'd lost out on the most important meal of the day, spilling his coffee all over his new hoodie so he was uncaffeinated and blotchily brown for the entire day...

It was not a good day to be Kim Namjoon.

Which was why Seokjin had arranged this evening the way he had, when he'd seen Namjoon's face upon walking into the dorm. He'd looked so strained, kind of pale, with a deep furrow in his forehead, slouched down in his stained lavender hoodie as if he was trying to retreat inside it. He thought of it a bit like first aid, or debugging a program. Apply X, Y, and Z to a grumpy Namjoon, and receive a far more pleasant Namjoon in return. So now a freshly washed, slightly damp Namjoon, contacts discarded for glasses, hoodie swapped for a fresh tee-shirt, was sitting on the counter, feet dangling almost to the ground. He had his phone in his hand as he picked songs to accompany Seokjin's cooking. The real key to this procedure, though, was Seokjin manoeuvring around him as he cooked, giving Namjoon very, very simple jobs ("can you pour out two hundred ml of soy sauce into that bowl, Joon-ah?", "Can you stir this for me, Joon-ah?", "Can you pass me the sugar, Joon-ah?") and rewarding him with a pat on the arm, a hair ruffle, a light tap on the shoulder. After a day like today, Namjoon needed the reassurance, and it was always nice to see Namjoon unfurl, going from crabby and curled in to smiling and calm with just a few touches and careful words. When he started talking about a book that he'd been trying to read between all their obligations, gushing over the symbolism and the twist in the middle, hands flying and almost knocking over a carton of eggs, Seokjin knew that he was feeling better.

Seokjin was a genius, honestly. IQ of 148 whom? Come back when you've wrangled a cranky, silent Namjoon into softness, and maybe Seokjin will acknowledge you.

"What are you making for dinner, anyway?" Namjoon asked, after an elaborate diatribe about how black cats were judged unfairly and not adopted as often from shelters. He'd moved to sit crosslegged, and soft American rap music was playing in the background- something relaxed, with a bit of piano in it- as he watched Seokjin.

"You mean what are we making for dinner, right?" Seokjin teased, and Namjoon smiled, a little lopsided. Through the open kitchen door, they could hear the sounds of the other six members- Jongkook, and Taehyung playing some game in the lounge, Jimin in the corridor, letting himself back in after solo practice, Hoseok singing in the shower, faint thumping bass from Yoongi's room- and it was nice to know where everyone was, that they were all at home as well.

"Sure, sure. What am I helping you make for dinner?"

"Knife noodles with pork," Sokjin said casually, as if he didn't know they were Namjoon's favourite. He turned back to the chopping board as Namjoon's smile widened and he hopped down from the counter, coming over to hug Seokjin from behind.

"Thank you." His voice was muffled by Seokjin's back, nose pressed between Seokjin's shoulderblades as his arms arced around his waist.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Seokjin said airily, putting down his knife and turning around to hug Namjoon properly. Namjoon was such a noodle, mostly made of limbs, and it was always strange to remember that there wasn't actually much body to him. He was easy to wrap up, and he sunk into hugs like they were water and he was dying of thirst. He let out a small happy sound as Seokjin snuggled him in closer, and they stood for a moment, letting the sounds of the kitchen surround them. The music, with its jazzy trumpet, the hiss of the onions frying, the drip of the tap, their soft breathing, the soft scratch of Namjoon's socks on the tile as he edged closer, eyes closing.

"Thanks anyway," Namjoon said, and Seokjin patted him on the back, turning back to the stove. "Is it okay if I stay here?" he asked, still wrapped around Seokjin from behind, propping his chin on Seokjin's shoulder to watch him cut cabbage.

"Yeah, Joon-ah, of course."

Mission accomplished.

 

-J-

 

"Jimin, do you need anything? I'm back to pick up our dance stuff, so I thought I'd check in. I've only got a moment, but if you need anything..." Namjoon trailed off, poking his head through the door and looking at Jimin. Jimin, who was lying on the floor, watching the fan spin and listening to sad music, nodded slowly. "...Are you okay, Jiminie?"

"It's been a day," Jimin admitted, looking at his traitorous ankle, which was propped up on several cushions, an ice pack draped over the top. Every so often, a drop of condensation dripped onto his other leg despite the mess of tea towels around it, and Jimin thought dark thoughts about untied shoe laces and Taehyung daring him to jump from the fifth stair of their dorm.

"Aw, Jiminie." Namjoon squatted down next to him, "You know you need to heal up, right?"

"Yes."

"And you know that trying to go back to rehearsal before you're healed could make it worse?"

"I know!" Jimin said, sitting up and propping himself up on his elbows. "I get it, I do! But it sucks, and I want to be with you guys, at least, even if I can't actually take part in rehearsal!"

"You can't walk on that," Namjoon said, nodding at his swollen ankle, and Jimin made a frustrated noise.

"I know that, hyung!" Jimin lay back down and stared at the ceiling until Namjoon's face got in the way. He was frowning, obviously concerned, and reached down to pat Jimin's head.

"But...hm. Okay, I have an idea. I'll be right back," he said, jumping up and heading back out of the main room toward his bedroom.

Jimin had just decided to get back to wallowing in his misery, clearly abandoned, when Namjoon finally reappeared with a pile of velcro in his arms. He had a few strands of dusty cobweb caught in his hair, and his white sweatshirt had a few streaks of pale brown dust on it, as if he'd been fishing under his bed or in the back of his closet.

"What's that?"

"It's my rocker boot! From when I busted my ankle last winter, remember?" Namjoon explained, crouching down and removing the ice pack and tea towels from Jimin's ankle. "I figure between the support there, and the crutches we have from that time I hurt my knee, I figure you should be able to be mobile, at least. If you sit quietly in the corner of the practice room, I don't think anyone will complain. We have a concept meeting after that, but I don't think you need your feet for that." He smiled brightly, strapping the velcro around Jimin's leg.

"I'm kind of worried about how often you injure yourself, hyung," Jimin said around a lump in his throat as Namjoon puzzled out the dusty rocker boot. Sometimes he just really appreciated Namjoon. Like, he always appreciated Namjoon, he was a supportive person and a great leader, but sometimes it just him that yeah, Namjoon was a great person, and it knocked the air out of him. The afternoon light was painting golden streaks across the room, and the warm air, which had felt stifling, now felt comfortable. Namjoon's eyes caught the light, a deep liquid brown, and Jimin looked away, back down at Namjoon's hands on his calf, which were very un-Namjoon in their care. He was being as careful as he could be, despite his usual clumsiness, and Jimin's heart felt very full.

"I'm fine. I get injured a totally normal amount," Namjoon said, strapping the last piece of velcro in place, "Let's try that, yah?" Namjoon reached down to give Jimin a hand up, and Jimin stumbled to his feet. There was a faint dull ache in his ankle, and the boot chafed at his calf, but he could stand without hurting, and that was something he hadn't experienced since last Wednesday.

"Thanks, hyung," Jimin said, and used his grip on Namjoon's hand to pull him into a hug, burying his face in Namjoon's shoulder.

"...Is the pain that bad?" Namjoon asked, sounding a little anxious, and Jimin shook his head, hugging him tighter, "Ah! Jiminie! Please, respect my body and its limits- that hurts!"

"You're fine, hyung," Jimin said, still squeezing, "stop being dramatic."

"Says the guy who was listening to Jungkook's old screamo playlist," Namjoon grumbled, but he hugged Jimin back, hands fluttering awkwardly for a moment before coming to rest on hips. "Are you okay?"

"I just appreciate you, okay? Accept it," Jimin said, rubbing his face on Namjoon's hoodie, and felt the older go kind of boneless and comfortable against him. They stood like that for a while, Namjoon pliant, Jimin holding him tightly, until Namjoon's phone buzzed.

"Hey, I appreciate you too." Namjoon said, cupping the back of Jimin's head and holding him close, "...but we're going to be really, really late if we don't get going now."

"I just want to make sure you know," Jimin said fiercely, pulling away, "you're a really great person, you know?"

"Ah, Jiminie..." Namjoon reddened a little, looking away, "let me go get those crutches for you, huh?"

 

-JK-

 

Jungkook was perfectly used to Namjoon's attitude toward physical contact. Having grown up with him, he knew that once the door to the outside world was closed, he was well within his rights to climb all over Namjoon, nap on him, stick his feet in his lap, and generally make a nuisance of himself, but if they were on camera, or in public, he needed to be a little more distant. He got even worse when they were out of the country, and there was no door to close off, just endless hotels and no safe home to hide in.

As such, once their latest interview was over, and they all piled into a car, and then a hotel, and then a lift, then a suite, and the door closes, Jungkook felt perfectly fine with falling bodily onto Namjoon as he tried to sulk on a corner of the couch. There were no cameras in here, after all.

Of course Namjoon's trying to sulk. The interview was vapid, as most interviews were, but in English, which most interviews weren't, and no matter how much they wanted to contribute, the burden always fell on Namjoon. Not just that, but the combination of American accents and questions about dating always made Namjoon want to go write moody poetry and talk about Sartre until he felt his credibility return. And that meant that everyone else had to listen to Namjoon write poetry and talk about Sartre, which was not a fun time for anyone except possibly Taehyung, who was charging toward hipsterdom at ninety kilometres per hour with no likelihood of slowing down.

Everyone else was making meaningful eye contact, raising eyebrows and pursing lips at Namjoon's sulking figure, and Jungkook pushed past them, grabbing his 3DS out of his bag. For all their sakes, Jungkook was going to bodily apply himself to the problem.

"Kook-ah, what are you doing?" Namjoon asked, a little bewildered, as Jungkook arranged them on the couch- Namjoon on the bottom, splayed out so Jungkook can lie between his legs and rest his chin on Namjoon's chest, Nintendo held at an angle where they can both see the screens. He could already feel Namjoon beginning to relax, the tension held in his shoulders bleeding into the couch pillows, and Jungkook nodded, booting up Professor Layton.

"Solving puzzles until dinner gets here," Jungkook explained, "Hoseok is ordering, because he wants to practice his English, though, so I wouldn't count on us getting anything normal."

"Should I help-" Namjoon tried to sit up, sounding exhausted, and Jungkook put a hand on his face, pushing him back down into the couch. Namjoon didn't even try to fight back, which was a quality that Jungkook appreciated in a hyung.

"No." Jungkook said heavily, "you have other priorities," he explained, wriggling further up Namjoon so that he was completely pinned.

"Other priorities?"

"This puzzle," Jungkook explained, pointing with his stylus, "is it A, B, C, or D?"

"But Hoseok-"

"Is fine. Yoongi is supervising," Jungkook said, as if Yoongi would do anything but point and laugh if Hoseok accidentally ordered thirty apple pies to their room. "You're busy."

"I'm busy?" Namjoon asked, and Jungkook nodded. Namjoon had enough to deal with, being in America. Hoseok could organise the apple pie buffet, it would be fine. "Okay, I guess I'm busy. Let me see the puzzle again?"

Jungkook smirked and tilted the screen, feeling Namjoon go loose and liquid under him, arms coming up to rest on Jungkook's waist as he craned his neck to examine the game.

"It's C."

Jungkook tapped the screen, and an approving 'bing-bong!' sounded through the room.

"Nice one, hyung." Jungkook said, and felt Namjoon melt a little more. Easy. Everyone was so serious and weird about looking after Namjoon, as if you couldn't just blunt force your way through the problem. Namjoon was probably the easiest to deal with in the whole group, Jungkook thought, as he piloted through the village on automatic. He wanted attention, but he didn't want to admit it, so literally holding him down and forcing him to accept praise was usually the easiest route. Compare that with Jimin's self-destructive impulses, or Yoongi's isolation tendancies, and it was _tame_.

Jungkook looked down at Namjoon and patted him on the cheek affectionately. "Ready for the next one?"

"Sure," Namjoon said, eyes lazily half closed, "lay it on me, Kookie."

Problem solved. Jungkook looked up at the rest of the members, who seemed surprised by the sudden mood reversal, and grinned triumphantly.

He's the golden maknae.

He's good at _everything_.

Honestly, how do they keep forgetting that?

 

-TH-

 

Taehyung wasn't really one for sitting still. He liked exploring, and taking photographs, going shopping or sitting in the park, not staying at home on the couch.

Nonetheless, sometimes you just really needed to vegetate on the couch with a sleeve of crackers and a full season of this year's hottest drama, and that was what he'd decided to do for the day.

And sometimes, someone else just really needed a cuddle while you vegetated, and that was why Taehyung was occasionally dropping cracker crumbs in Namjoon's face as he read some article on his phone, despite saying that he really wanted to watch Taehyung's drama with him.

"Hyung, are you even watching?" Taehyung asked, and Namjoon nodded, eyes fixed on his phone. Taehyung sighed, hand creeping under Namjoon's sleeve to rub warm circles on his arm, and Namjoon stretched, pressing into the touch with a happy hum.

"She's in love with him, but he's in love with the girl who runs the coffee shop, which is sad because the two girls are childhood friends."

"Maybe more!" Taehyung said, "There's a lot of subtext. You're missing the subtext!"

Namjoon nodded again, still scrolling, and Taehyung pulled his hair gently.

"Hyuuuung."

"I'm watching, I'm watching!" Namjoon said, finally putting down his phone, and Taehyung smiled, sliding his hand under Namjoon's shirt to scratch lightly along his side, enjoying the sensation of his fingers on warm skin, the lazy press of lean muscle as Namjoon arched into the touch, the way Namjoon's eyes glazed over just a little bit and he bit his lip. Cute.

"Wait, have they always interacted like that?" Namjoon asked, as the male lead and his best friend went to the coffee shop, and the two girls made meaningful eye contact.

"See! I told you, subtext!" Taehyung said, throwing his hands up. Namjoon made an unhappy sound, and Taehyung went back to petting his side, sliding his other hand under Namjoon's shirt too.

"Subtext," Namjoon agreed, "how many episodes of this are there?"

"Another eight, but I can take it back to the start of this one if you want?" Taehyung asked, as Namjoon nuzzled into his grip.

"Wait, when did the giraffe get involved?" Namjoon frowned, and Taehyung sighed.

"If you'd been watching, you would know that it's a metaphor for Jimin- look, I'll just take it back to the start for you, hyung."

"Thanks, Tae." Namjoon said, smiling softly, and reached up to steal a cracker.

"But pay attention this time, because I'm only rewinding once!"

**Author's Note:**

> I got into this fandom for one thing, and one thing only: the Kim Namjoon Appreciation Hour.  
> Yoongi is watching Hot Fuzz. All the mentioned scenes are real scenes, and if you don't know it, you should watch it, because it's one of the funniest films I've ever seen.  
> Namjoon and Seokjin were listening to Sunday Candy, by Chance the Rapper.  
> A rocker boot is a boot used to immobilise the lower leg and take pressure off the foot when you break bones in your foot or ankle.  
> Taehyung's drama isn't real, but I wish it was. We need more lesbian subtext in dramas.  
> Someday I'm going to write more than pre-slash shortfic because damn do I need to dip my toes a little deeper into this fandom, and I'm OT7 trash.  
> Please leave a comment if you liked this!


End file.
